Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritius and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Kinks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
The Slits,
Duran Duran,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Jerry's Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Popol Vuh,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Simply Red,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Agitation Free,
Motorama,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Visage,
Pagans,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Y Pants,
Youth Brigade,
Model 500,
Camouflage,
Malaria!,
Nas,
Joensuu 1685,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Style,
D'Angelo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalann,
MDC,
The Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deadbeat,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Hood,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Hardrive,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
New Order,
Metal Thangz,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.